


Boats

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Hetty Wainthropp Investigates, Taggart (TV)
Genre: Autism Spectrum, Canon Autistic Character, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-24
Updated: 2004-10-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie wakes Geoff to see the boats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boats

“Geoffrey Shawcross,” Jamie whispered into the dark room, his fingers grasping the cotton of his pyjamas. When there was no answer, he took two short steps toward the bed. “Geoffrey Shawcross.”

No answer.

Two steps.

“Geoffrey Shawcross.”

There was a muffled grunt from under the blankets, and Jamie froze, poised to flee. He gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and said a little louder, “Geoffrey Shawcross.”

“Mnfph. Jamie? ‘S’at you?” Geoff’s voice was raspy, thick, and he cleared his throat.

“Geoffrey Shawcross. It’s Jamie.”

“I figured. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Do you like boats, Geoffrey Shawcross?” he asked eagerly.

“Are you kidding me?” Geoff grumbled, slowly becoming aware it was still the middle of the night.

A frown entered Jamie’s voice, and Geoff heard the quiet tick of a fingernail on a button. “Kidding? I—I don’t think so. Am I kidding?” He worried that he’d missed something again, wondered if someone could be kidding and not even know it.

Geoff sat up in bed, suddenly fully awake. “Sorry, Jamie. No, I know you’re not kidding. What’s this about boats?”

“Do you like boats, Geoffrey Shawcross?” he asked again, the keenness back in his voice now that he knew he hadn’t missed something important.

Geoff saw Jamie’s pale face shining nearly blue in the dim light that came through his open curtains. “Sure. Sure, I like boats.” He grinned. “And you can call me just Geoffrey, you know.”

“You like boats.” Suddenly his teeth flashed in the moonlight as he smiled his wide open smile. “Come with me, Just Geoffrey.”

Geoff laughed.

Jamie, a little unsure but hoping, asked, “I was kidding, right?”

Geoff chuckled again. “Right you are.” He climbed out of bed, grabbed his t-shirt off the chair and yanked it over his head. “We’re not going outside, are we?”

“No. Not outside. Come with me, Just Geoffrey. Come with me!” In his sudden enthusiasm, he grabbed Geoff’s wrist, then jerked his hand away as if he’d burned himself. “Come with me come with me come with me,” he whispered, clutching his collar.

“Okay,” Geoff said gently, smiling. “I’m coming with you. Let’s go.”

Jamie turned and hurried out.

 

 

He led Geoff down the hall to his own room and nearly ran to his bed, kneeling to look out the window above it, his anxiety lessening in the face of his excitement.

But Geoff stopped short in the doorway as he took in Jamie’s room. What had seemed a haphazard mess during the day took on a startling precision at night. There was the bed with its Jolly Roger duvet, of course, the skull and crossbones glowing, but what Geoff wasn’t prepared for was the illusion of masts and rigging and even a knobbed wheel, cast in shadow on the wall. Dumbfounded, he looked at the other window, saw the tangle of strings and pieces of wood and the wheel off a toy pram studded with wooden knobs, all dangling above the desk in the glow of the security light just outside.

“ _Jamie_ ,” he breathed, awed.

Jamie turned, surprised to find Geoff still in the doorway. “Come with me, Geoffrey.” He beckoned him urgently.

Bemused, Geoff crossed to the bed, climbed onto it to kneel in front of the window, careful to leave at least a foot of space between them.

“You like boats,” Jamie said, satisfied. “So I brought you to watch the boats with me. Look.”

Geoff looked, and smiled. Out in the dark harbour, a string of ships of all shapes and sizes, their lights twinkling, threaded its way out to the open water. Some were diesel-driven fishing boats, some were solid, stable sailboats, there were even a few low, open motorboats with spotlights mounted to their prows—but all were heading out to sea.

Geoff leaned his chin on his fist on the windowsill. “That’s brilliant,” he said, honestly pleased. “Beautiful, innit? Wonder where they’re all going?”

Jamie leaned his chin on his fist on the windowsill. “That’s brilliant. They’re going searching.”

“Searching for what?”

“A boat is missing,” he answered matter-of-factly, still spellbound by the sight before him. “They all go when a boat is missing.”

Geoff frowned. “Missing? As in, disappeared, maybe sunk?”

“Yes. Maybe sunk. They all go, they always do.”

Geoff sat up, the darkness and moonlight and shadow of rigging on the wall combining to make him feel utterly disoriented, despairing, make him wish he could go searching too.

Jamie glanced over and away, frowned, sat up. “Geoffrey? Did I say something wrong again?”

“No. No, Jamie, of course not. It’s—“ He gestured to the line of boats in the harbour. “That. It’s not… God, it’s not brilliant, it’s bloody heartbreaking.”

“Heartbreaking. Heartbreaking,” Jamie repeated quietly, as if trying the shape of the word on his tongue. “Geoffrey?”

“Yeah, Jamie?” Geoff murmured, distracted.

“What is that? What does heartbreaking feel like, I mean?”

Geoff looked at him, fully focused now; he knew this was important to Jamie, knew by the way those shadowed green eyes kept coming back to his, over and over. “Well…it’s hard to describe. What do you feel when you’re sad, Jamie?”

“Sad. Like when Mum’s upset with me?”

“Yeah. Like that.” Geoff turned around and leaned against the wall, not wanting to look out over the harbour anymore.

“I feel…” Jamie stared at the corner of the windowsill. “I feel tight. Like something is squeezing my chest. It’s hot, and it hurts me.”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah. Heartbreak is like that, only worse. There’s something sharper in it. I suppose like…” He paused to think, then quietly said, “I guess it’s like when you feel tight, and something is squeezing your chest, then every breath you take feels like there are little shards of broken glass inside, slivers of glass cutting into you.”

Jamie pulled his knees up to his chest, hand tight on the top button of his pyjamas. His head twitched down slightly, then again.

“Jamie?” Geoff asked, concerned. “What is it?”

“I made you heartbroken,” he said flatly, but obviously upset. “I made shards of broken glass cut you inside.”

“What? No! No, you didn’t, Jamie.” Geoff wished he could grab Jamie’s shoulder, give him a hug, anything. He didn’t move. “Jamie, look at me for a second. _Jamie_.”

Jamie’s eyes met his, and dropped again almost instantly. But then he glanced up a second time, lasting a moment longer before looking down.

“ _You_ did not make me heartbroken, Jamie, I swear,” Geoff said vehemently. “You did not make me heartbroken. It was the boats, not you. It was the boats going out…” And suddenly Geoff was the one looking down, unable to meet Jamie’s eyes.

“It was the boats, not me,” Jamie whispered. “Why was it the boats, Geoffrey? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Geoff stared down at the duvet, one hand plucking at a loose thread. “Because…because they are going to look for people who are lost,” he muttered, oddly sure of that fact, “And then they’re going to have to come back and tell the families that those people aren’t coming home, that they’re gone…”

Jamie knew he was missing something very important, but he didn’t think it was because his brain didn’t follow the usual channels. He thought it was because there was something Geoffrey hadn’t told him, and he couldn’t be expected to know, then, could he? “Why does that make you heartbroken, Geoffrey? Don’t worry, Geoffrey. Don’t worry, no one will come tell you someone’s gone.”

“I know. I—I don’t know why it makes me so sad,” he sighed. “Haven’t you ever had that, Jamie? Haven’t you ever felt something, but not known why you felt that way?”

What Jamie felt was a flash of inspiration. “You’re kidding me, right?” He did his best to imitate the tone Geoff had used earlier.

“Sorry, I know that was a stupid—“ But he suddenly stopped, and he looked up at Jamie, and he saw the grin that Jamie was helpless to hide, and surprised but impressed, Geoff laughed out loud. “ _You_ ,” he said warmly, chuckling, “are far too sharp sometimes, you know that?”

“Did I do it right?” he asked eagerly. “I did, didn’t I? I’m far too sharp sometimes and I made you laugh.”

“You did. You did make me laugh. Thanks for that, Jamie.”

“You’re welcome, Geoffrey.” He turned and sat with his back to the wall also, only six inches between them, and they both looked across the room at the shadows of sailing ships.


End file.
